At the bottom of the grand staircase, waiting for her, stood the four maids and the chef. Their expressions were a mixture of concern and quiet apology, as if they somehow shared the blame for the disaster that had unfolded. They had no doubt heard the commotion Madisyn caused upstairs and pieced together what had happened. Yet, despite their obvious worry, they remained silent, their heads slightly bowed as they awaited her word.
Madisyn cleared her throat, her voice thick with the remnants of tears. Her eyes were still swollen from crying, and her makeup, once perfect, had long since smudged away, leaving her face raw and bare.
